


the blood you spill is mine too, i guess

by sawuhs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawuhs/pseuds/sawuhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU that takes place in Asgard, with Anthony as an Aesir who's half-mortal, and is Loki's servant. /For loyalty is more than just./ Angsty. Hints of abuse, murder, and sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s blood on the carpet, but Anthony had learned, from the first time he had met his master, that it’s never something he should ever point out again. In Asgard, you learn never to question royalty if you are a servant. In Asgard, you learn to turn a blind eye to the things that happen here. But Anthony has always been the one who steps out of line, the one who says words he shouldn’t, _sometimes_ , then again, it’s not entirely his fault.

x

“Hand that over,” Loki says, hand reaching out towards Anthony, his words not exactly a direction, but Anthony is smart as smart can be, a fucking novelty in Asgard, really; most citizens here made for nurturing or wars, no one here is textbook smart, not the way Loki is known to be, or the way Anthony isn’t known to be, but Anthony is smart as smart can be, and hands over just exactly what Loki needs.

“Thank you,” a hint of a smile dancing across Loki’s lips as he chops up the piece of liver, Anthony can see, and shivers in anticipation, says, “You must be proud to have me, Loki.”

The slap he receives which leaves red on his cheek to let him know his place— _it’s_ Prince _Loki to you—_ is so, so worth it.

x

If the Aesir who know Anthony are asked, they would blame the fact that the curiosity and pride in him is more than just innate and that him being half-mortal, which sane Aesir would name their child Anthony Stark _anyway_ , is the only reason why he hasn’t risen up to a much higher, much better status amongst the gods, and is a servant to the one God of Mischief. It puzzles them, but they never ask, how Anthony doesn’t seem to mind this at all when he’s always wanted _more_ to everything.

x

“You must despise working under me,” says Loki, almost a question, watching Anthony scrub the carpet from the comforts of his own bed, and Anthony looks up, laughs, “Not at all.”

“You are truly foolish to think otherwise,” says Loki, a little testing, but Anthony isn’t the only on one Asgard who has curiosity in his nature.

“I enjoy myself,” Tony says, with a shrug, even if he hates getting his hands dirty with the domestic work, _knows_ that Loki can look for someone else, so that’s got to mean something, “and it isn’t like you want anyone else.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” Loki asks, tucking hair behind his ear. “But if you must know, it is only because no one else would keep my secrets the way you do.”

x

His brother sees good in him the way everyone else doesn’t, not even Anthony, with good reason, and Loki is thankful for that; not seeing good in someone doesn’t mean they can’t love them, not that Anthony actually does, but there’s an unspoken bond between him and Loki, something that can never be replaced. Not after all the things Anthony has seen; blood on the carpet, livers for spells used in no way good, lie after lie spilled right through his teeth, but that also doesn’t mean that Anthony is ever going to leave.

x

“Again?” Anthony asks, when he sees the wreckage that is Loki’s room, one of Loki’s dark days, and there’s always days like this. “You’re a fucking handful, you know that.”

“Sorry,” replies Loki, a broken smile forced on his face, but the word alone is enough for Anthony to let it slide, again.

“Stop that,” says Anthony, his tone light, because he knows Loki needs it and no one but Anthony will provide, “Every time you say that word, I feel like you’re going to beat the Hel out of me.”

“I just might now,” says Loki, his smile now genuine, and Anthony rolls his eyes, sighs, “Maybe after I clear up all these books, yeah?”

x

The old blood he sees on the carpet is something he never figures out how came about, but the blood that is new he can make guesses, has seen beings entering Loki’s chambers, then never leaving, knows that some of the blood belongs to himself; lashes to his back for good fun, hurt that just aren’t from lashes, and yes, he does mind, but it’s for Loki, and if anything in Asgard is _more,_ it’s Loki, so for this Anthony learns how to put up with all the pain, not that it hurts all the time, because Loki has needs too that Anthony can fulfil, so there’s that, and that, and _that._

x

“I think I ought to start calling you ‘pet’, _pet,_ ” Loki hums, fingers scratching at the short of the beard on Anthony’s chin.

“I’d tell you not to,” purrs Tony, fighting hard not to fall asleep on Loki’s lap for he knows the consequences of _staying,_ “but two things: a, you never listen, and b, you’d beat the fuck out of me.”

“You have been visiting Midgard again,” Loki points out, his fingernails on Anthony now close to doing damage, “I should have word with Heimdall. I approve nothing of the way you speak these days.”

“Loki, _please_ ,” says Anthony, sitting up, which makes Loki tut for two reasons and yank Anthony down by the hair, “I need to see my father. Mother yearns for him.”

“There is reason your mother is not allowed there, darling, don’t make it reason for yourself too,” Loki says, and maybe it’s a bit of fear in Anthony eyes, or a challenge, but he’s looking away, whispering, “If you wish for it, my Prince.”

x

He can’t hate Loki no matter how much he wants to, Anthony, and he doesn’t know that if he wants to hate himself more, since he already does, for being unable to hate Loki the way almost all of the Aesir do. Because if there’s two things that Anthony definitely knows, one is that Loki’s words don’t always carry venom, there’s the occasional hidden meaning _s_ behind his lines, for good or _not,_ and two is that Loki, despite it all, does care, far too much; the only problem being the way he shows it. From these two reasons, Anthony also knows that Loki won’t actually speak to Heimdall about stopping his visits, his quiet third knowing being that he has somehow made himself a soft spot (next to Thor) inside Loki’s blackened heart.

x

“My brother holds you close to his heart,” says Thor, the clapping of his large hand against Anthony’s back makes him stumble forward a little, but Anthony’s muttering, “Tell me something I don’t already know, meat swing.”

“I am afraid I do not understand,” says Thor, brows furrowing, and Anthony says, “I said I know that.”

“Oh,” is all Thor says for a moment, still as confused, then, “You are lucky.”

“You do too, you know,” Anthony says, even though he thinks he probably shouldn’t have, but _ah, what the Hel,_ “He just has a funny way of showing it.”

“I may now understand why Loki has yet to request a change of servants,” Thor muses, but he has the biggest fucking smile on his face for the rest of the day.

x

Though Anthony really questions the way Loki holds him close to his heart; the scars old and wounds new are a mystery the way the old bloodstains on Loki’s carpet are, and yet he still lingers around, waiting for the next thing Loki asks of him to do, even if it’s just something simple, or him being on his knees. Is there any love in this, he can’t help but wonder, the first time Loki spins a tale of lies that points Anthony guilty in the eyes of Aesir for something he didn’t do, later deciding no, then yes, then no, then yes again, then _maybe._ He still doesn’t know.

x

“Sigyn,” is all Loki says, decades later, and Anthony’s eyes flicker to the carpet, says, “ _Oh._ ”

“It is in my nature to ruin all that I have and love, Anthony,” Loki whispers, eyes cast off somewhere in the distance out the window. “Leave me before I regret letting you know.”

“I won’t,” replies Anthony, and the way Loki turns to look at him with eyes soft and longing makes his heart clench then skip a beat. “You can’t make me, and I’ll stay forever. Not Hela or the Valkyries can take me away from you.”

“Fool,” hisses Loki, but there’s only fondness in his voice, “you are far too loyal to me, even after the things you have seen happen in here.”

“And you, too, are a fool,” Anthony chuckles, not afraid of the hurt that will come next, “for letting me stay.”

x

The one time Loki had asked if Anthony would leave him someday, it had been on one of Loki’s darker days, and standing amidst the scattered pages from books torn and ruined furniture, Anthony had quietly promised that he wouldn’t, but for only as long as he could live. _I’d promise you forever but,_ he had told Loki, and trailed off, but from the look in Loki’s eyes, Anthony could tell that he needn’t continue his sentence. They both knew, at the end of the day, that half-mortals just don’t last the way gods do.


	2. Chapter 2

On the bloodied carpet is where Anthony lies, his cheek shoved against the woven rough, his nose smelling his own blood. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that this is yet another game, but he knows, and can’t escape, the fact that this is yet another crippling defeat that makes him want to give up, stop breathing, stop caring, and just _stop._

x

“Are you ever going to get bored of me?” Anthony asks, coyly leaning over Loki’s desk, trying to distract the god by lifting up his chin, ever daring, and brushing his thumb against Loki’s bottom lips, smiles both decorated on the two, though Anthony isn’t sure whether or not he should be afraid of Loki’s grin.

“If you keep being such a nuisance,” says Loki, his hand having ceased his writing, green eyes on the thumb that is on his lips, and suddenly his tongue darts out to lick it, surprising the half-mortal, turning Loki into the coy one, and he continues, “but not with how lovely you always react to such things that can be easily expected.”

At first, Anthony contemplates swearing at Loki but after he looks at the god’s testing eyes, Anthony decides that _no,_ maybe not today.

x

When other Aesir see him, no one cares enough, or has the guts, to ask Anthony why there are bruises or cuts that mar his skin and his handsome face. The only one to ever ask, and there’s no surprise in this, is Thor, but even when he asked Anthony, Thor already knew who was the one who inflicted all these wounds. The only question was why, and Anthony had laughed it off, saying that it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, instead of actually explaining that, perhaps, it was something Loki truly needed.

x

“After all these times, you still aren’t going to leave me?” questions Loki, rather testily, and it hits Anthony then that that is exactly what Loki is trying to accomplish with all the beatings and all the hurt that’s been going on for the past few years.

“Aren’t you the one who let me stay,” Anthony snips back, just as testily, not at all pleased by what he’s just realised.

From his bed, Loki beckons for Anthony to come over, but Anthony doesn’t, and Loki growls, sitting up, then says, “I don’t quite like the way you’re behaving, _pet._ ”

“Well then, maybe you should have thought about that before you decided on me,” is all Anthony says, before turning his back and leaving the room, leaving Loki stunned for once.

x

The next time Anthony sees Loki is also the first time he is ignored by everything he says, but not everything he does. All Loki does is give Anthony a lot of work to do, which means Anthony is scrubbing blood off the floor and replacing furniture again, and watch him carefully while pretending to read a book. While Anthony has expected this to happen, he’s not quite sure what to make of it.

x

“When are you going to start talking to me again?” Anthony has to ask, because silence can be so excruciating even to patient people, though Anthony has never been that sort. His question is ignored quite easily, which makes him sigh and say, “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I was out of line that day, I shouldn’t have-”

“Did it really have to take you a whole forty days to apologise, Anthony darling?” Loki laughs, making his way to where Anthony is fuming, caressing his cheek with nonchalance.

Just as Anthony is about to berate Loki, Loki cuts in and says a quick, “You haven’t forgotten who is the God of Mischief, have you, darling?” and all of the anger evaporates off Anthony like water meeting the blazing sun.

“You idiot,” is all Anthony can say, clutching at the god’s sleeve, wondering if, for any moment at all, the god had even thought about not letting him stay anymore.

x

Though Anthony supposes that his question has been answered the day he sees Loki’s new slave, by the name of Leah, sitting next to Loki in his study where Anthony has never been able to. To Loki’s wonder and disappointment, Tony has completely nothing to say to this at all, and for once, the roles are reversed, and Tony starts to be the silent, and ever watching one.

x

“Have you nothing to say to my brother?” Thor asks Anthony one day, out of plain old curiosity, and without a beat, Anthony replies rather venomously with, “What is there for me to say? I am but a mere slave.”

“Nonsense,” says Thor, who still sees more in his brother than anyone ever will, “you ought to know by now how much Loki cherishes you.”

Anthony scoffs and shrugs, ignoring the tell-tale signs of truth in Thor’s eyes, then says, “Yeah, once upon a time ago.”

x

Loki is still waiting for Anthony to say something about Leah, though he is starting to suspect that Anthony will never, and while this is going on, he is wondering if Anthony will ever go back on his promise of never leaving, not the way Anthony is _sure_ that Loki has gone back on his word of letting Anthony stay, but because the both of them are equally stubborn and prideful, none of them will ever ask the other, and also because sometimes _knowing_ something isn’t knowing until one has seen it in the other’s actions.

x

“So, what’s your deal?” Anthony asks Leah about a year later, when he’s made a decision for himself that _soon,_ something will have to change.

She tilts her head and stares at Anthony for a second, then says, “Why, I’m here to help, of course.”

“Oh, come on,” scoffs Anthony, rolling his eyes, “What does he see in you that I don’t have?”

“Is that jealousy I sense?” Leah quips, a brilliant smile on her face that cuts Anthony in a way he didn’t expect, and makes him say, “Forget it.”

“You’ll understand one day, Anthony,” Leah eventually says to him, and Anthony finds himself not caring enough to ask what exactly he should be understanding.

x

There is a day that Anthony recalls himself walking past Loki’s study, only to find himself hiding behind the entrance to peek in and see Loki and Leah crouched over the table and grinning from ear to ear, looking like they both share something Loki and Anthony never had. Jealousy, Anthony knows now for sure, resides deep in his heart, and it won’t take him anywhere if here is where he remains. There’s somewhere else he can be, somewhere else like Midgard, where his father is, and perhaps there will be a greater need for him there, perhaps there is something there that he can do. He’ll go in a week, he decides, and not even Loki will be able to change his mind.

x

“Is there anything else you would have me do for you, _Prince_ Loki?” Anthony carefully asks, but even so, Loki can’t help but see something underneath Anthony’s intentions.

“What is it you’re planning?” Loki asks, straightforward enough to make it clear he knows something is going on.

Anthony steps closer to where Loki is, eyes glued to the ground as he does so, saying, “Well, Leah isn’t here for once, so I figured that, maybe I could do something for the sake of old times.”

“There is nothing you can do for me,” Loki comments, rather off-handed, and goes back to reading his book.

“Oh, come on,” Anthony grumbles, snatching the book away from Loki, that earns him a hit hard enough to throw him onto the bloodied carpet, his best friend, he thinks just then, while Loki says, “If there is something you’re planning, I shall have no hand in it. Now leave me be.”

“That I shall,” Anthony whispers, as he picks himself up, wondering if this is what Leah meant by he’ll one day understand, and Loki can’t help but feel that there’s something wrong in those three words.

x

It is only on the fourth day that Loki realises the impact of his words on Anthony, and how those last three words Anthony said was a warning Loki didn’t see. Now that that has hit Loki, Loki doesn’t quite know what to do, even with Leah trying to tell Loki that Anthony would be back, which isn’t at all true, Loki can’t help but think that maybe this is a way of Anthony creating forever with Loki, since there’s definitely a spot in Loki’s heart, drilled and imprinted deep, for Anthony alone. So Loki wonders, if is there any point in trying to get him back.


	3. Chapter 3

When Loki finds him, there is silver grazing Anthony’s scalp, wrinkles next to his eyes, a stance that screams for rest, and a heart that has been broken and never mended. It would have taken Loki sooner, had he not bother to thoroughly search though Midgard, and he shouldn’t have, not really, not when he first sensed that Tony wasn’t even there; but he just had to be sure.

x

“And here I thought you would never come,” Anthony murmurs, keeping away from Loki, for he doesn’t want to believe that this is real; oh how much had he longed and _longed._

“I never thought I would find you here in Alfheim,” Loki answers, taking two steps forward for every step Anthony takes back, “And you should have known better than to leave, Anthony. You know what they do to runaway slaves in Asgard.”

“If that’s all I am to you,” Anthony scoffs, no longer backing away—it doesn’t matter that Loki is still coming forward like a predator—but now glaring at Loki; Loki who has not changed one bit, and Anthony has to ignore the ache in his heart; it seems like that’s all his heart ever does these days.

“It took me a hundred years to find you, Anthony,” Loki growls, looming over Anthony, who scoffs, even louder than before, “Yes, but how long did it take you to bring yourself to find me?”

x

However, Anthony does know exactly how long it took Loki for every step—first realising he is gone (four days), then summoning the courage to leave Asgard (eight years), searching though Midgard (roughly fifty and a half years), going through Helheim briefly—his daughter was in no way happy about that—just to make sure Anthony wasn’t dead (eleven years), going back to Asgard to see if maybe Anthony has returned (two months), through Jötunheimr (five days), all the other realms (thirty-one years), and finally coming to Alfheim (six years)—and Anthony did is all to see if he even meant anything to Loki. Right now, he’s not too sure.

x

“What ever happened to that darling Leah of yours?” Anthony asks, seated by a lake and dipping his feet into the cool and inviting water; he glances at Loki, who has hair falling over his face, “I think you need a haircut.”

“After all these years and the one thing you want to know is about Leah?” Loki replies, brows lifted in amusement, then scowling at Anthony, Loki runs his fingers through his hair, says, “My hair is fine.”

“Are you going to answer me?” Anthony spits out, to which Loki is quick to respond, “Why do you want to know?”

“Because, love,” Anthony says softly, a tremor in his voice, staring at the expanse of lake before him, unable to look into Loki’s eyes, “don’t you know she’s the reason I left?”

x

It’s the one thing Anthony has never been able to find out, even with him keeping tabs of Loki; long ago he had decided if he ever met Loki again—whether fate or not, he has—he would ask, and he wants a response, wants to know what Leah actually meant to Loki, and how could he have brought her in when he already had Anthony; doesn’t he know that Anthony absolutely _loves_ Loki? But no, no; he decides this is something Loki can never know.

x

“She meant nothing to me,” Loki says, only a few days later—bloody typical, really—and still in Alfheim, lying on the bed of Anthony’s house while Anthony takes the floor; it’s almost as if they’re back in Asgard.

“Then why did you bring her in?” is Anthony’s first question, followed by an agitated, “Why did you _share_ with her?” then a defeated, “Why did you smile with her?”

“To see if you would leave me even if there was someone else, pet,” Loki says, but the pet name twists the dagger already in Anthony’s heart.

“So it was all a test?” Tony croaks out, throat tight and eyes watering; he wipes the tears away angrily, unsure if he’s mad at himself or Loki, but he knows it’s more the former than anything.

“Yes,” Loki answers, turning on his side to look at Anthony, and Loki’s eyes soften when he sees the tears, yet he continues, “And you failed me, did you not? You left me when you said you would never.”

x

Anthony may know about the years Loki took, but never in detail did he know how Loki spent the first year he realised Anthony had left him. He isolated himself, dismissing Leah—who left as she came, without care—and refused to speak to anyone, not even Thor; Loki didn’t think he deserved anyone’s company, not when he drove away the only person he truly cared about. Loki had raged and cried, all the while refusing to admit what he has went beyond care for Anthony; but Anthony will never know about these days, or how Loki has never done this before, not even when his children were lost to him.

x

“Come back with me,” Loki whispers, begging into Anthony’s ear; right now, he is holding the half-mortal close to him, holding him closer than ever, wanting, _needing,_ “I’ve missed you.”

“I shouldn’t,” Anthony says, even as his nose is buried against Loki’s shoulder, smelling cloth that reminds him of _home_ with bloodied carpets and chopped-up livers.

“But why?” Loki has to question, heart aching just has Anthony’s has been for the last hundred years, and he grits his teeth, saying what he doesn’t want to be true, “Did you find someone else?”

“No,” Anthony laughs into Loki’s neck, gripping tightly at Loki’s shirt, to the point that he can feel his nails digging into skin, “There is always and only you.”

x

Loki has thought about this before—what he would do if Anthony refuses to come back with him, what he would do if Anthony decides to come back—and each time he came to a conclusion, it had never been a pretty one; if Anthony refused to come back, then Loki would take him home regardless, in chains or not; and if Anthony agreed to come back, then Loki would be relieved, and everything can go back to how it had been that hundred years ago—neither of them ever really appealed to him.

x

“Come back with me,” Loki asks again, later that night, when Anthony is on the bed with him, sheets tangled between them, when for once, Loki decides he will let Anthony stay, holding him so tight that he just can’t leave.

“If I do, what then?” Anthony answers; a victory for Loki because he knows Anthony has always been one who is unrelenting.

“Then we shall take it as life gives us,” Loki finds himself saying; curious because he’s always been one who liked to plan, and this does surprise Anthony in a way that makes him purr out loud, which in turn surprises Loki too, pulling out laughter from them both.

“I don’t want to go back to the way we were, Loki,” Anthony admits, fingers dancing over the marks he’s left on Loki’s shoulders—he is surprised that he still hasn’t received a beating for that yet—and Loki says, “But we have to. Except, maybe you should stay the night now.”

x

Anthony considers making a run for it when Loki is asleep, but there are two problems that he encounters; the first being he simply can’t bring himself to, missing Loki for a hundred years has been enough, and Anthony thinks that perhaps it is time he stops torturing himself; the second being, and this brings a smile to Anthony’s eyes, that Loki’s arms are around him like a death trap, and it’s a death trap Anthony doesn’t mind falling into.

x

“I am yours,” Loki says, voice low and husky, as he presses his lips to Anthony’s forehead, then his nose, then his lips.

“And I suppose this is the closest you’ll ever come to admitting you love me,” Anthony answers, and receives a slap that makes him chuckles in pleasure, it seems that some things can never change but will always remain good no matter how awful it might be, “That’s a yes then.”

x

It is a yes, Loki knows himself, and Anthony was right when he said that’s the closest Loki will ever come to admitting such a thing, but it’s all with good reason; love has always been nothing but a disappointment to him—look at where it landed him with his lovers, look at how broken they had left him. Anthony is okay with this, he decides, knowing all too well that _forever_ is still something he cannot promise Loki, not even with the help of Idunn’s apples.


	4. Chapter 4

Coming back to Asgard is exactly like what Anthony thought it would be; even without looking, he knows the countless pairs of eyes that trail him, the whispers behind hands that hide nothing; he knows, knows perfectly well the consequences of a runaway slave, but Loki had assured him safety and safety is what he’ll be getting. If there’s anything Anthony knows for a fact, it’s that Loki will _never_  let anything of his slip past his fingers if he can help it, especially not after what had happened to his children.

x

“You are home at last,” Thor says, much to Anthony’s surprise; he hadn’t expected to see the man, and even then, he’d expected Thor to take him by the wrists and send him off to Odin.

“Seems that way, yeah,” Anthony finds himself laughing, but he stops the second he notices Thor scrutinising him deeply.

“You have aged, my friend,” Thor points out, nodding his chin towards Anthony’s white-streaked hair, and Anthony shakes his head, says, “Not aged, buddy. I’m old and dying.”

“There is but years ahead of you,” Thor tells Anthony solemnly, earning another shake of his head.

“Yeah, but not the way I want it to be,” Anthony answers before walking away, missing the way Thor stands there in thought for a long moment even after Anthony is gone.

x

He’s dying, he knows, all too fucking well, and he hates being reminded of it, yet it’s in the air everywhere he walks, even if it’s not for his ears to hear. He’s so sick of it, sick of hearing the Aesir question why Loki is even keeping this almost-dead miserable sod around; he still has years, _years_ , mind you, but he also knows that even fifty years is nothing in Asgard’s eyes.

x

“I made stories up about you while you were not around,” Loki whispers into Anthony’s hair.

“I’m always making stories up about you,” Anthony says, staring out of the window. “Even when you’re around.”

Loki sits up, turning to face Anthony. “Is that so?” he asks, cupping Anthony’s cheek. “Tell me, my pet, how do these stories play out?”

“In these stories, you tell me you love me,” Anthony admits, soft so that he can pretend Loki might not have heard it, soft so that he can _hope_ Loki will miss it.

“Oh, Anthony,” Loki murmurs, thumb now grazing Anthony’s cheekbone, and all Anthony can say is, “I know, I know.”

x

Loki knows that even though Anthony wants love, it is something he also knows Anthony would never ask for. He had already given Anthony all he could give—“ _I am yours”_ —and Loki likes to think that, yes, that is enough. At the same time, he wants to love Anthony, to give the half-mortal all that he’s ever wanted, yet Loki knows he will never, can never, for if he ever does, well, no good has ever come out of loving someone when all he’s ever going to do is lose them, is there? He remembers Sigyn and his children, and how none of them are around him now. So yes, he says to himself, it’s better if he doesn’t love Anthony the way the half-mortal wants him to.

x

“How’s my mother?” Anthony asks as he toes the old bloodstain on the carpet, then he looks up, smiling lightly.

“What, you expect me to keep tabs on her?” Loki asks in return, but he barely even completes his sentence before Anthony is saying, “Well, yeah.”

“I attended my father’s funeral, you know,” Anthony tells Loki, walking towards the bed where Loki’s lounging with a book. “I went to Midgard when I first, y’know, left here.”

“Rather long a life for a mortal,” Loki hums, flipping a page, and even though Anthony knows Loki doesn’t really care, Anthony adds, “He invented something that extended his life, said something about seeing my mother again.”

“Well, pet,” Loki says, snapping his book shut, which tells Anthony they’re at the end of their conversation, “your mother does splendidly without him, and you, for that matter.”

x

Frigga finds Anthony a year after he returns, while he’s changing the sheets of Loki’s bed. She smiles fondly at him, making him smile back sheepishly, and leaves as quickly as she came since the one she was looking for isn’t there; Anthony hasn’t spoken to her much even through his years of working as Loki’s slave. It’s meant to be that way though; no one in Asgard thinks to give their slaves a second glance, but it seems that everyone here wants to do a double-take on him these days.

x

“Why are you so afraid?” Anthony asks, despite the fact that they’re both naked and Loki’s burying himself repeatedly into him.

It makes Loki pause briefly, but then he’s moving again, and he says, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Why are you so afraid of loving me?” Anthony gasps, now that Loki’s picking up the pace, now that Loki’s being relentless—just from that, Anthony can tell that Loki isn’t pleased by the question.

“You would not understand,” is Loki’s reply, and Anthony laughs, breathless, “Well, explain it to me then.”

“No,” Loki says, plain and simple, but it is then that Anthony believes he will one day understand why.

x

And he does understand, not even a month later; what makes him infuriated is the fact that it has always been there, in his face, all along, but he was too blinded by the same thing itself that he couldn’t see; it was pride, Anthony should have known all along, pride that Loki didn’t want the other gods to see that he’d swoop so low to fall in love with a half-mortal, even though his brother had so many times gone to Midgard and is so clearly in love with the place.

x

“You know I am yours,” Loki argues, but Anthony says, “No, you are not. You are Asgard’s, you care about what they think more than you care what _I_ think.”

“Cease your childish whining,” Loki growls, this close to slapping Anthony’s face.

“You’re only angry because it’s true,” Anthony mutters, shoving off from Loki’s bed, the same bed he’s been staying in for nights and night now.

“I am only angry because you are being foolish,” Loki says, getting off the bed himself, and Anthony turns back, eyes narrowing, “Then _why_.”

“Because I am not ready to lose you, you blazing idiot,” Loki snaps, then suddenly, Loki’s arms are around him, and even though Anthony knows it should be him, it’s Loki that says, “It will be fine, my love. We will be just fine.”

x

Loki’s heart is his, and undeniably so, Anthony knows—and knows he was wrong earlier to presume it was pride that held Loki back—though he can’t help but feel that he’s never going to be quite content until he finally hears those words pouring out of Loki’s mouth, like this green-eyed god needs for him to know, needs for him to be trapped and overwhelmed by his love. Anthony only hopes he’ll live long enough to hear those words before he’s off to where Loki’s daughter resides.


	5. Chapter 5

Anger, denial, bargaining, depression, acceptance; these were words that Anthony had taught Loki long before he had to go, _had to go_ because Loki can’t say those words, that Anthony’s grinning face and arrogance and almost snide remarks are something Loki will never ever experience again, because Anthony is, because he is— _well._

x

“I don’t have long,” Loki recalls Anthony telling him, not too long ago, perhaps a year, maybe two, but Loki refused to listen to those words.

“Perhaps I can talk to Idun again,” Loki had replied then, turning his back to Anthony who was laid down, too old and too weary to move.

Anthony had sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment, then he had forced himself to sit up, hating the weakness he felt in his body, and had said, “You know the apples aren’t gonna help, Lokes.”

“I should hit you for that,” Loki had murmured, turning back to look at Anthony with only tenderness, and Anthony had chuckled, had rasped out, “You could, but I’m not sure how well my body will take it.”

x

He can’t quite remember, though he is sure Anthony had told him that the Midgardians studied on grief, and when someone passes away, their loved ones go through these five stages, but what Loki knows he definitely can’t remember is whether or not these five stages were taken a step at a time, or if they came in a jumble; he thinks, well, perhaps it doesn’t matter, it’ll all pass anyway.

x

“Have you considered going to Valhalla?” Thor suggests, all wide eyes and a helpful smile, yet all Loki sees is the bad, spits, “Do you take me for a bloody fool?”

“He is half-mortal, is he not?” Thor points out, and Loki scoffs, _knows_ Thor is just trying, but it only infuriates him because Thor can be so godsdamn stupid at times.

“Anthony is not there, Thor, he is, he is in—” and the word is stolen from him just like that, he wants to say it, heck, he has _accepted_ the fact that Anthony isn’t here anymore, _but_.

“He is not in Valhalla,” Loki makes himself say after a moment of silence, ignoring Thor’s sunken look, ignoring the dull pain in his own chest. “And I cannot go to that other place.”

“Ah,” is the only sound Thor can make; he wants to ask _why_ but he figures that if it’s Hela that Loki has to deal with, then it won’t be so easy.

x

Loki longs to ask Anthony, if it is necessary for one to go through all five stages in order for it to be real; he doesn’t quite understand the meaning of his own question, he supposes it’s just an excuse, along with the fact that he doesn’t feel angry, not at Anthony anyway, not at anyone, not even at himself; if anything, he feels resigned.

x

“You cannot die on me, pet, you are Anthony _fucking_ Stark,” Loki had quipped to Anthony many, many years ago, when Anthony could still take his lovely beatings with a grin.

Anthony had raised an eyebrow, had said, “Picked something up all those years you spent in Midgard looking for me, eh?”

“Are you actually pouting at me, Loki?” Anthony had laughed when Loki failed to reply, and had moved to stand in front of Loki and caress his cheek.

“What I am _saying_ is, you cannot die,” Loki had said with a smirk, choosing to ignore both Anthony and the fact that his own heart was faltering at his own lies. “You cannot possibly die.”

x

It would be easy if things were to work Loki’s way and he could just drop everything, strut down to where Anthony is, ask Hela who would graciously hand Anthony over, then they can have their merry ending— _but_ that isn’t the case, life’s never easy, especially not for Loki who still has his dark days, and at the end of the day, where do gods look up to when they can’t even help themselves?

x

“You have to eat, child,” Frigga sighs from Loki’s doorway, which takes him utterly by surprise, and he snarls, “I am no _child._ ”

Frigga sighs once more and walks towards Loki, glancing at the mess around him, “Won’t you at least take a walk with your dear mother and let a servant clean up?”

“A walk to where?” Loki asks, suspicious, because he thinks he knows the answer, and knows he is right when Frigga says, “To Helheim, perhaps?”

“What is the point, mother?” Loki says, thinking of Anthony’s word ‘bargaining’, sighs, “I have already begged enough for more time with him and here we are.”

“It hurts no one to try, my dear,” Frigga tries, but Loki is already shaking his head, murmuring, “It does, it does.”

x

 _Depression_ , Loki repeats to himself one day, and he is well aware that it is a fact, it’s been maybe two years since Anthony’s passing, but barely has he been up to mischief—he just stays in his personal garden, even forgetting to take a bath for days, maybe weeks, he barely eats, barely sleeps, and hardly leaves the garden despite the weather—and he just wonders, when this will all stop and he can just _be_ again.

x

“You have to give him a proper funeral, Loki,” Thor says after another year has passed, and it is then that Loki finally gives in.

“There is no point is there, leaving him like this,” Loki whispers, staring at Anthony’s body still well-preserved and looking like he’s just fast asleep.

“His soul may be in Helheim, but he will not be complete like that,” Thor explains, wary because the Aesir has almost given up on a funeral for Anthony.

“Fine,” Loki says, clenching his teeth and holding Anthony’s cold hand tightly, “Even he knows I have been selfish long enough.”

x

The funeral is extravagant, much to Loki’s surprise, and not that he is complaining, but he is rather surprised by the amount of people weeping there; he doesn’t expect it, yet standing there and watching the blazing fire that was once Anthony and what was left of his heart, Loki realises that he is okay with this, for at least he knows he had told Anthony, not four years ago, that, yes, he does love him.


End file.
